The Interloper
by WoMo
Summary: So far, there has been nothing but progress at Ant Island. What happens, however, when a strange intruder comes to disrupt the ant's way of life? Are things really as they seem, or are other, more vicious insects playing Ant Island for their own ends?
1. Intruder on Ant Island

The cool rush of air around his antennae felt good as he buzzed through the air, searching for the anthill that he knew was below him. It was the dead of night, and although the moon was dim in the sky, the few rays of light that it produced irritated and burned his oversensitive antennae, making them feel like two sticks of fire atop his head.

He scanned the ground once more, looking for anything recognizable. Nothing. He grew frustrated and swerved violently to the left, renewing his search in another direction.

His antennae twitched as his antennae smelled and tasted the air around him, soaking everything in like a sponge. Despite the pain that this action cause, he could tell that it was approximately 72 degrees Fahrenheit and that he had about five hours left before he absolutely had to seek cover. But, most importantly, there wasn't the faintest trace of ant in the air. He had to be going the wrong way.

He swerved away, cursing. His handicaps made it almost impossible for him to navigate efficiently, and his sense of direction was poor at best. The constant ache that gnawed at his gut made him constantly irritable, sometimes even furious. His mood swings came and went with the pain in his bowels.

He sniffed the air again, this time with some success. He could detect a hint of ant northward. Instantly he swung around and went into a dive, rushing, impatient and elated.

A sharp pang in his thorax, extending all the way to his abdomen, told him that the spurt of speed had sucked up much of his energy reserves. He needed food. Unless he found a source of protein before daybreak, he would starve. This only served to shorten his temper further. He had already made up his mind to snatch the first living thing he saw and then impale it with his curved stinger, and then devour it in short order.

Putting aside his trivial instincts, he focused on his goal. The scent of ant was growing stronger as he traveled, so he knew that he had to be close. Seeing and recognizing the clover beneath him, he took another deep breath, and was rewarded with the bitter smell of an anthill.

At last he saw it. Seeming to glow in the pale moonlight, the mound stood near a protruding root from a giant, overhanging tree. In the daytime it was swarming with masses of ants, all going about their daily business, ignorant of anything outside of their little world. At the moment it was lifeless and dead, and there wasn't a single sign of movement. Not even a sentry.

Then again, he thought, there never was. Why should it be any different this time?

He struck the ground on all six feet, ignoring the sharp pain that stung his joints, and then straightened. He peered into the surrounding darkness, looking for any sort of spiders or bats. As usual, there was nothing. There were never any threats to him on Ant Island.

His antennae twitching, his pressed forward, being careful not to inadvertently buzz his wings. The scent of ant was so strong that he could smell it without even trying.

A gust of wind blew over him, rattling the branches in the tree, and then settled. Glancing upward for any falling leaves or sticks, he continued, not stopping. He had to act quickly.

He paused at a sudden sound. His antennae went rigid and he crouched to the ground. His right leg bent at an awkward angle and he nearly shouted out in pain. Inwardly berating himself for his lapse, he eased the leg down and listened. He wanted to kill whatever had made the noise. He considered few things a threat, but that did not stop him from wishing to devour anything that he came across.

He suspected that the ants were indeed expecting him this time, and he readied himself to leap into the air if he sensed a trap. Perhaps he had miscalculated them. Perhaps all of his attempts were going to be in vain.

When he was satisfied that he was not immediately threatened, he got to his feet and, using even more of his precious energy reserves, scanned the area for life. He smelled nothing but the usual flood of ant, and he tasted nothing unusual in the air.

Every particle of his body was screaming for nourishment, and there was nothing that he could satiate it with. The ant smell was driving him crazy, and his primal instincts told him to play the part of the predator. He clenched and unclenched his hands, feeling the fury take him over.

Struggling for control, he climbed the anthill and went to work.

OOO

"Flik?" Atta stepped into the chamber and looked around at the clutter of failed inventions. Various broken wheels and spinning contraptions laid about in no particular order, and she could not even begin to imagine the possible use of half of the machines laying around. Flik was kneeling on the far side of the room, fiddling with some roots that were attached to a gigantic, cone-like instrument.

"Queen Atta!" exclaimed Flik, jumping up into the air and almost knocking his head off the side of his latest invention.

"I told you never to call me that," Atta said, laughing slightly. "It's just Atta. What are you making?"

"Oh, sorry Qu- I mean Atta," Flik stammered.

She stepped closer and lightly kissed him. "Now what are you making?"

"Oh, right!" said Flik, letting go of her and hurrying back over to the cone. He pointed excitedly at it, as though he was showing off his favorite toy. "You know how we always have droughts in the summer and can never seem to get enough water? Well _this_ is a drill. All I have to do is fix a few of these roots and-"

Caught up in his own passion, Flik picked up the loose root and began twisting it, apparently trying to make it tighter.

"I see," said Atta, smiling. "How has-"

"All it does really is dig into the ground," interjected Flik, utterly oblivious to everything. "You see, I have this theory that there is water underground. There has to be, right?"

Atta listened patiently, though she was slightly irritated at having been interrupted.

"I got the idea when it was raining," continued Flik. "I mean, all that water has to go somewhere. After all, we're always reinforcing the tunnels to keep them from collapsing because of the moisture. I think it all settles somewhere underneath us."

"I never thought about it that way," said Atta lightly. "I was wondering, Flik, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

"Okay, I agree," said Flik, making no sign that he had heard her. He finished twisting the root and was now tying it back. "You see, the drill works by spinning rapidly, churning up the ground beneath us. If we go deep enough, I'm sure we'll hit water. I'm still not sure how we could bring the water back up, but I don't think that's much of a problem."

Atta crossed her arms and asked, "Really? What time tonight, then?"

"Yeah, isn't it though?" said Flik, tightening the root. "It only took a couple weeks, too. I had to get some acorn stems, but that wasn't too much of a problem."

"I wouldn't suppose you would mind if I invited Thumper over too," she said, her eyes slowly narrowing. "I heard he makes great dinner conversation."

"Sounds great," Flik said vacantly. "But just think of all the time this is going to save us. The summers won't be so bad anymore, and it'll solve the problem Dr. Flora has every year with ants collapsing from fatigue." He paused, as though recalling something. "Say, how's Dot doing? I heard she's advancing rank in the Blueberry's."

"She's doing great, Flik," said Atta shortly.

Flik missed the subtle annoyance in her voice. "And the colony? Are we still producing record harvests?"

"Perhaps you could leave your invention for a moment and see."

"Well," said Flik, glancing once more towards the drill. "I suppose I will this evening."

Atta tried hard not to roll her eyes. "We've had another sighting, Flik."

"Again?" Flik said, turning towards her. Alarm had entered his voice. "Do we even know what it is? No one is...dead...right?"

"No," replied Atta. "There was a close call, however. It apparently tried to attack one of the new guards we stationed below the anthill entrance. Fortunately, the guard escaped and called for help. By the time the rest of the guards arrived, the intruder was already gone."

Flik sat on the ground and rubbed his forehead. "It's bizarre. What does it want?"

"No one knows," said Atta. "And we haven't been able to decipher the marks it leaves behind on the mound, either. Mr. Soil is trying his best, though."

"I'm sure he'll be able to figure out something," Flik said, though he did not sound confident at all. "What're we going to do in the meantime?"

Atta was beginning to wonder where exactly this conversation was headed. "Station more guards so that we feel safe. If this happens for another week, we'll try to get outside help."

Flik remembered with a slight grin the last time they had attempted to get outside help. He wondered what ever happened to the Circus Bugs. He had not seen them since they left last spring. There had not been word from them since, though he had once received a letter from Manny detailing the places they have been traveling to.

"Oh," added Atta. "And you've received some requests, as usual."

Flik's antennae perked up. 'Requests' were usually from bugs in the city, who, having heard about the recent success of Flik's various inventions, often contacted him, asking him to design various machines for a substantial reward. One bug once asked him to make a flying machine. Another asked him to make a machine to make the sun rise earlier. Despite his failures, he had earned the reputation of working miracles in regards to creating machines and solving problems, and it was not unusual for him to receive requests from eight or nine trees away. His reputation in the colony, however, remained much the same, with a few exceptions, one of them being, ironically, Thorny.

"I'll read those later," Flik said, not quite ready to leave his invention. He was so close to finishing it that he could taste it. "No rush. Not with Hopper gone, anyway. We seem to have time for just about anything now."

"Mmmmm," said Atta neutrally. She was repeatedly amazed at the ironic turns this conversation was having.

"But this drill still takes up most of my time," said Flik, his old excitement building once more. "I'm so close to finishing it. Soon it can be put into use. After Thorny inspects it, of course." He strode back towards the enormous drill, pointing out its features.

"And Flik, you're going to need to be in the Council Chambers at dusk," said Atta, sighing inwardly. Maybe everyone was right, she thought. Maybe Flik and her simply couldn't work.

"All I have to do is tweak a few other parts," said Flik, all of his attention now dedicated to his invention. "And it'll be ready. I don't want to push it through. It might malfunction and cause some very serious problems with the anthill's structure. Atta, do you remember that one time when-"

But when he looked around for Atta, she was gone.

OOOO

Flik entered the Council Chambers hesitantly, hoping that no one would notice the fact that he was ten minutes late. But as soon as he stepped into the light, every head at the large, mushroom platform situation on the far end of the chamber turned towards him.

"Great to see you, Flik!" said Thorny, being the first one to speak. His voice, echoing off the walls, seemed strange against the previous silence. "Been working on that invention of yours, have you? Well, that's all right, I suppose. We were just beginning, anyway."

All eyes turned to Atta, and she nodded slowly.

"We were just reviewing the colony's status," Atta said, and she smiled back when Flik beamed up at her. "And particularly the recent problem with security."

"Or lack thereof," muttered Mr. Soil.

"Since you ten to think - how should I say it? - outside of the box," said Thorny. "We thought you might be able to help us." He paused, reviewing everyone in the room. "Has anyone seen Cornelius?"

"He's out sick again," Dr. Flora said. "I believe his old age is catching up with him."

The council members exchanged dark looks. Cornelius had been confined to his chamber for the past week, and rumors were beginning to circulate that the old ant was barely hanging onto life.

"Well, we'll just have to proceed without him," said Atta. "Dr. Flora, could you relay everything we go over in this meeting with him? And wish him good health."

Flik watched Atta, thinking that she handled herself well. She was controlling the council, not the other way around.

"Back to the subject at hand," continued Atta. "We're going to have to take steps against the interloper. It's scaring the workers and foragers, and they're coming to work deprived of sleep." She paused, then added, "And it's not just the workers..."

"Do you have any suggestions, your highness?" asked Mr. Soil.

"I want to recruit more guards and place them at the entrance with thorn spears in groups of no less than three," Atta said, sounding as though she was reciting from a slip of paper.

"I respectfully disagree," said Thorny, shaking his head. "I think we're all in agreement that this situation needs to be addressed, but I believe your plan is inadequate. Your placing ant lives at risk. And besides, we're not fighters. There's no guarantee that the guards could even fight the intruder off. This situation can turn bad very easily."

Atta, surprised by the response, did not quite recover. She tapped the ends of her fingers together and said, "Well, perhaps we should find out what it wants, first. Mr. Soil, have you made any progress yet?"

Mr. Soil shook his head. "None at all, your highness. These markings are unlike anything I've ever seen. I've written copies. If you could all take a model of what we're seeing..."

He drew a sheaf of parchment, and began passing them out to every council member. When Flik received his, he unfolded it and stared at it. The markings were nothing more than straight lines crossing over one another, as though someone had taken a stick and had repeatedly swiped at the ground.

"We're obviously dealing with another insect," Thorny said quietly. "Judging from these marks, it's quite large. I don't believe any security detail would be adequate."

"If I may interrupt for a moment," Dr. Flora began. "I would like to ask all members of the council to not spread these drawings. If anyone should see them, we may have a full blown panic on our hands."

"It's at least as big as a grasshopper, probably bigger," said Mr. Soil. "It's far too big for any ant to have made."

"Bigger than a grasshopper?" whispered Atta. The paper trembled in her hands. "You mean it could be-"

"There's no reason to become alarmed, your highness," said Thorny, though his own expression showed apprehension. "So far, it's harmed no one. But it can't hurt to be cautious."

Flik was beginning to run ideas through his head. Against something of such size, it would be best if they could simply evade the insect rather than confront it. What could they do? No invention could possibly work. He began pacing wildly, and Atta watched him as he went back and forth, practically ignoring the other councilors.

"-There must be another solution-"

"-Thorny, that couldn't possibly work. How would we sustain it?"

"-impossible-"

Flik paced faster.

"Your highness?" Thorny said, breaking Atta from her trance. "Could you hear my suggestion, and then Dr. Flora's, and then tell us which you feel would be more suitable?"

"Alright..." Atta said uncertainly.

"Great," said Thorny. "I want to set up a giant model of a bird near our anthill-" He gestured wildly in the air, as though planning the project. "-It would take my engineers a while, but when it's finished, I believe that it would deter the insect from approaching us. It worked for the grasshoppers, didn't it? Well, until it crashed and burned, but that's beside the point..."

"I feel we are better off finding help from the city," said Dr. Flora, folding her arms.

"It would take far too long," countered Thorny.

Both turned expectantly towards the Queen, but Atta only managed, "Uhhhhhhh...well..."

"I apologize for my tardiness," called out an elderly voice from across the chamber. A badly limping figure wielding a cane marched across the floor, muttering to himself the entire time. Flik grinned when he saw it was Cornelius. "How far into the meeting are we?"

Upon closer examination, Flik saw that the oldest councilman was indeed losing his energy. His back was a little more bent, and face was pale and sickly. He looked as though he had just managed to crawl out from his bed for the first time in a year.

Dr. Flora looked slightly taken aback by Cornelius' presence. "About halfway, I'd say."

"Good, then," he grumbled. "Let me have one of those sheets." He took a spare copy from Mr. Soil and examined it closely, squinting the entire time. "Well, what do we have here?"

"What can you make of it Cornelius?" asked Mr. Soil curiously.

Cornelius continued to mutter, and eventually limped over to his section of the mushroom table and set it flat onto the counter. He leaned over it, tracing the lines with his finger. His breath hitched in his throat.

"This can't be right," Cornelius said. He turned to the thespian. "Where did you find these, Mr. Soil?"

"They were outside of the anthill, Cornelius."

"Great tree above," Cornelius said, backing away from the paper. "This is the writing of a hornet. They haven't been on Ant Island for decades! This can't be right."

Atta looked as though her worst fears were confirmed. "Okay, now, what can we do to stop it?"

"It?" echoed Cornelius, his mouth twisting into a grin. "Not it. Them. Where there's one hornet there's a thousand. At least in most cases. We should hope we're dealing with only a rogue. Now what is going on?"

Quickly, with many interruptions, Atta outlined the intruder's behavior and the effect it was having on the colony.

"Strange," said Cornelius, rubbing his chin. "They are usually more direct than that. And hornets never come at night. Frankly, I don't know what you can do. In my day we used to deal with them on a daily basis, but the last I heard they moved down twenty trees. The best I could do is translate."

"Well," said Mr. Soil eagerly. "What does it say?"

Cornelius took one, long look at the paper, and then said, "It says: Give Flik."

A dead silence fell over the chamber, and Flik froze in his spot. He was not sure whether he believe his hearing. Atta stared at him, horrified, shock clearly written on her face. The rest of the council members looked at him with equal amounts of terror, obviously unsure of what to do. The only sound was Cornelius' long, wheezing breaths.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dr. Flora whispered.

""I think it's quite clear," said Thorny indignantly. "He wants us to give Flik to him."

"What for?"

"Who knows how hornets think."

"But how does this intruder - this hornet - even know Flik's name?"

That question brought pause to everyone.

"He must've been to the city, then," Flik said, his voice sounding very distant and out of place in the wide chamber. "I sometimes develop and send inventions back to the city. That must be where he, or they, heard."

"I think only one thing is clear at this point," Atta announced. "We're not going to give Flik over to _anyone_." Several nods and grunts of approval met this statement.

"So we're back to the same question," Thorny said. "What're we going to do?"

"Well, Flik," said Atta, turning to him. "Do you have any ideas?"

Flik seemed to ponder her question for a moment, and then answered, "Why don't we just seal the anthill entrance during the night?"

The council erupted with chatter, and several positive notes rose above the din. Flik managed to catch Atta's eye and winked.

Thorny clapped his hands together. "That would work! Brilliant!"

Even Cornelius, who was the most critical of Flik, nodded in approval.

"Then it's settled," said Atta, still smiling. "We'll seal the tunnel every night and dusk, and then open it at dawn. All in favor raise your hands."

To Flik's pleasure, five hands shot up into the air.


	2. Message in the Ground

"Alright everyone," said Thorny, speaking to a small gathering of engineers in a wide expanse of tunnel that stretched under the anthill entrance. "We're going to have to be especially careful with the boulder. The basic idea is that we're going to drag the rock-" He gestured to a large, round boulder that had been lugged up earlier by a group of foragers. "-into the entrance. This should seal the ant hill off from any outsiders during the night. Is everybody ready?"

It was dusk, and many of the ants stared at Thorny with bleary eyes. Despite their apparent exhaustion at having been roused for work when they were about to go to bed, they managed to say in chorus, "Absolutely!" though there was little actual energy behind it. Most of them could only see Thorny's antennae, due to the councilor's short stature.

Many ants kept one wary eye on Flik, who stood at the head of the group. They had not quite forgotten the numerous other times that Flik's plans went awry.

Flik, however, was completely confident that the boulder would work. He had specially designed it so that, if you were on the outside, you could not possibly get a good enough grip on the rock to pull it out. Even if the hornet used all of his strength, he could not possibly move it. The colony would finally be able to sleep in peace, without worrying about other insects lurking in the tunnels.

"I don't really see the big deal," muttered one engineer to the other. "If you ask me, there isn't any sort of intruder out there at all. It's just ants on late shifts getting the spooks."

Flik was about to correct them, but remembered that everything they went over in council was confidential.

"How's it going over here, Thorny?" asked a feminine voice coming out from a chamber further down the tunnel. Queen Atta.

"We're just about to move the boulder in place now, your highness," said Thorny. He jumped on top of a small, protruding root so that he could better oversee the group.

"Great," she replied. Flik caught her eye and she smiled. Her irritation with Flik from yesterday was almost completely gone. "Maybe I can help out."

Thorny paused, and, after fiddling with his abacus for a moment, nodded. "Sure, we have room for one more. Everyone to their positions!" He hopped off the root and climbed onto the outside of the anthill.

Flik followed him, and was temporarily blinded by the glare of the setting sun. Shading his eyes, he turned towards the boulder and was slightly daunted by its sheer size. The rock itself was more than five millimeters in diameter, and the smoothness of its surface would make it difficult for them to get a good grip to pull it into the entrance.

Thorny took up his position, and everyone followed. Flik stood in the middle, gripping at a slight depression in the rock, and readied himself. Atta took up the spot next to him. Flik, very aware of her proximity, felt himself blush.

"On three!" called Thorny. "One...two-"

"Wait, hold on!" Flik yelled, letting go of the boulder and sprinting around the rock to where the markings were. "Hold on, I've thought of something."

"What now?" an engineer grumbled. "This shouldn't be taking so long. Just pull the rock in, and we can all go to bed..."

"Flik?" Atta asked, furrowing her brows.

"I just had an idea," said Flik excitedly. He paced wildly back and forth, developing his plan even while he talked about it. "We might be able to solve our problem without bothering with the boulder anymore."

Thorny, who had just come around, said, "I know you get a lot of ideas, Flik, but the boulder should work just fine-"

"No, it has nothing to do with that!" said Flik. He picked up a nearby stick and pointed to the various markings on the ground. "We can communicate with the hor- with it!"

"Why would we want to do that?" asked Thorny gruffly. Atta remained silent, waiting for Flik to elaborate. "We already know what he wants. You."

"But wait," continued Flik. "What if we can talk them out of it?" He turned to Atta. "Can we bring Cornelius up here. Maybe he could write a message and then leave it here. When it comes during the night, it'll see the message and respond."

Thorny eyed Atta expectantly.

"Well..." said Atta slowly. "I don't see how it could hurt."

"Thanks Atta! I'll get Cornelius now!" declared Flik, practically leaping into the air. He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek and then ran back down the tunnel.

Atta touched her cheek - the place where Flik had kissed her - and smiled. Flik was really sweet when he was not obsessing over his inventions.

Thorny blinked twice, then looked from Atta, to the tunnel where Flik had ran, and then back to Atta. He tilted his head, asking a silent question. "Your highness?" he asked.

"I suppose we should give the engineers a break until Cornelius arrives," said Atta, pretending not to notice Thorny's inquisitive expression.

When Thorny realized that he was not going to receive a response, he nodded. "There isn't any reason not to."

Atta lightly flew into the air and landed on top of the boulder. She felt the wing muscles in her back stretch from the exercise, and it never failed to relax her after spending hours in the cramped corridors of the ant hill. Being Queen involved many more sessions with the council and much less physical activity. She dreaded the day when, like her mother, she would lose use of her wings.

"Alright everybody," she said. The engineers turned towards her wearily. "We're going to delay the project for a moment. Rest while you can."

She turned to face the sun, beginning to feel nervous. Only a thin crescent was visible above the horizon, throwing red streaks of light across the sky. It would not be long before darkness enveloped the surface, and then the insect - the hornet - would be out on the prowl.

_Why only at night?_ she asked herself.

"Your highness?" Thorny said from below. "We don't have much time. I don't want to risk anyone by staying out here after dark."

"I understand, Thorny," replied Atta distantly, but her mind was elsewhere. She was still thinking of Flik.

Were the rumors she heard in the colony right? Could she and Flik never make it together? She understood his faults; his attachment to his inventions, his clumsiness, and his tendency to make bad situations worse. But she also loved his bravery and the fact that he would never surrender his beliefs.

It was going to be difficult, she realized, but she was confident that they would be able to work past their mutual faults and find happiness.

What did it matter what the others thought? She knew what she saw in Thorny's face. Mingled surprise and disbelief. He had never expected them to be public. This, perhaps, was the perfect representation of how the colony viewed her and Flik's relationship.

Thorny, on the other hand, was waiting impatiently for Flik to return with Cornelius. He never ceased to be amazed by Flik's sporadic ideas, and this one proved to be no exception. Talk with the hornet? Could this really be resolved diplomatically? His extensive experience in dealing with the grasshoppers told him that this time Flik's efforts would be in vain.

But then, a hornet wasn't a grasshopper, was it?

Presently, Flik was emerging from the ant hill, his right arm hooked around Cornelius' left, supporting the elderly ant as they climbed through the tunnel. Cornelius' pale complexion looked out of place against the dark background.

"Now where is it?" Cornelius grumbled, released Flik's arm and limping over to where Thorny stood. Atta came down from the boulder and joined them.

"Right here," said Thorny, gesturing to the ground before him.

Cornelius leaned over the markings and squinted, tracing the lines with the tip of his cane. "Yes, these are the ones," he wheezed. "What does your highness wish for me to write?" He turned towards Atta, jutting his stick into the ground and leaning upon it heavily.

Atta glanced towards Flik, who seemed as though he was struggling with himself to remain silent.

"Tell it to stay away," said Flik. "Give it a warning."

"Stay away?" Cornelius snorted. "Decades ago, we wouldn't give warnings. We'd rouse half the colony and bring up spears-"

"But this is today, not 'decades ago,'" Atta said with somewhat unnecessary sharpness. "I'm not going to risk losing any ants to this hornet. And tell it that we're not going to give up Flik, either."

Muttering to himself, Cornelius picked a clear space of ground and began etching into it with his cane. He had to stop and correct himself several times before he finished it, and when he stepped back, a series of drawn lines were clearly visible in the dirt. They weren't as deep as the hornet's, however, but bold enough to gain attention.

"There," said Cornelius at length. "That should catch his attention."

"And if that doesn't," added Thorny. "Then the sealing of the ant hill _will_. He'll get the general idea when he sees that the entrance is blocked."

"Then let's get started."

"Alright boys," Thorny boomed, rousing the engineers. "Let's get this over with. You two, come with me, we'll navigate the boulder so it comes in smoothly."

With some difficulty, the ants managed the squeeze the rock into the tunnel, effectively sealing it. When he finished, Flik stepped back, looked at their work, and felt a sense of security sweep over him. He had not realized how much the intrusions were bothering him until they had closed the tunnel. He never seemed to realize that it was _he_ who was threatened. It was _he_ who the hornet wanted.

"Flik?" said Atta, startling him from his thoughts. "You seem distracted." She stepped closer. "If it's about the hornet," she said quietly. "The colony is well defended, and we'll never give you up."

"No, it's not that," Flik said quickly. Of course, that was _exactly_ what he was thinking about, but he did not want to admit that to Atta. "I was just thinking about the - err - drill."

Atta's eyes narrowed. "I see. Well, you'll be finishing it soon enough."

"Yeah, I suppose I will. Some parts still need be aligned and I'm still trying to solve some other problems. I need longer roots, and a few clover stems couldn't hurt, either. Not to mention that I'm not quite sure whether it will work at all." He realized he was rambling, but wanted to keep the topic of conversation away from hornets. "I suppose I should also add some safety features to this one too," he added with a nervous laugh.

_His invention, like always,_ Atta thought. She sighed.

"Maybe," said Atta rather shortly. "I'm off to bed. I'll see you in the morning, Flik."

Atta was beginning to walk away when Flik suddenly had an idea. "Atta! Atta wait!" he called out, running after her and attracting the stares from the surrounding engineers.

Atta paused and turned around, slightly confused, watching as Flik ran up to her. She could not help but smile inwardly at the sight.

"Atta-" said Flik, and then stopped. Realizing what he was about to do, he was suddenly reluctant to do it. "Atta - uh -"

Atta, beginning to think that something was seriously wrong, touched his arm. "What's wrong Flik?"

"Oh - uh - I was wondering - uh - would you like to have dinner tomorrow night? I mean together."

If there were any ants that weren't watching the exchange a moment ago, they were now. They had all paused at what they were doing, or had found some excuse to stand idle nearby, and waited for Atta's response.

"Sure, Flik," Atta said, smiling. She could not help but think of the irony in the fact that she had asked Flik the same question earlier that very day.

"When would you like to?" he asked, surprising himself by managing to complete the phrase without an interrupting "uhhhh" or "errrr." How strange it was, he thought, that he could kiss her on the cheek without embarrassment, but asking her to dinner was difficult at best.

"When the sun is just below the lowest limbs of the tree would be fine."

"That's great for me too," said Flik instantly. "So I'll meet you by the main root spiral?"

"Alright," she answered.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," Flik said. "Good night, Atta."

"Good night, Flik."

Atta, trying to retain an outward impression that nothing unusual had occurred, went back to her chambers, though she could not help but betray her emotions through a smile on her face. The engineers that she had left behind gossiped unabashedly, amazed by Flik's question and even more amazed by Atta's response.

Flik, oblivious to everything as he watched Atta walk away, turned when she was out of sight and went down an adjoining tunnel, feeling as though he was on the top of the world.

OOO

The wind rushed around his antennae, burning him, as he landed onto the soft earth. The pain slowly subsided, though it never truly dissipated. A slight gust of wind or a few stray dust particles could cause a new flare of agony for him without warning. Even the most acute sensation was easily amplified by his antennae a million times, which translated into severe pain. It was unbearable.

Right now, however, his antennae felt almost pleasant. For a blessed moment, he was able to forget them completely, but a slight change in the humidity spoiled that. He bared his teeth and struggled forward.

He climbed the anthill, pausing sometimes to listen. He had become much more cautious, as he realized that the ants were becoming terrified because of his presence. He smelled it in the air. They had even posted sentries, which he had blundered onto the previous night. He would not make the same mistake twice.

He realized with growing anxiety that he had accomplished nothing since coming here. He wished he had not thought about it. Anxiety never mixed well with the pain in his head, his bowels, his legs.

Coming to the entrance, he was surprised to find that a large rock blocked his path. He put his hands against it, pushed, then pulled, and was disappointed to find that it was quite secure. It had not even budged.

Blind anger frothed into his head, forming a pool in the center of his brain. He snarled and kicked the boulder furiously. A sharp pain stabbed at his foot, but he did not care. He paced, muttering, raving. He wanted to find something he could capture and shred and kill.

His plan was foiled. His chances were eliminated. He was finished now…doomed to his half-existence.

The wind picked up, blowing wildly against his antennae, and pure, undiluted pain flooded his senses. He let out a shriek, falling to his knees and clutching his head. It was so intense that he could barely see.

His thoughts became jumbled and incoherent. If anyone had happened to have crossed him at that moment, he would have most certainly attacked them in a blind frenzy. He slammed at the ground with his foot, trying to shut out the screaming signals his antennae were forcing into his brain.

At last the wind died down, and he was left in a heap, still fuming. He got to his feet, cleared his head somewhat, and let out a breath. He would have to try again, he realized. And again, and again, even if it meant the death of him.

When his vision returned, he crouched close to the ground, preparing to leap into flight. As he did so, however, he saw a pattern of symbols not far from him. He stepped closer, peered down into the soil, and tried to force his aching mind into action. It was a message. It was crude and halting, but he could read it.

_Stay away._

His fury crested once more. He smashed and smeared the characters until they were illegible, and then, using his stinger, he began to write.

OOO

The morning's fog shrouded the surrounding plantlife from view, making it only possible to see the stretch of bare dirt that surrounded the anthill like a moat. It was cold, moisture was heavy in the air, and Atta wanted nothing more than to go back inside, curl up in her bed of dried leaves and flower petals, and sleep the day away.

Of course, her duty as a Queen would not permit that.

"Is Cornelius here yet, Thorny?" she asked, rubbing her elbows. The occasional cool breeze, the oppressive silence, and the strange message on the ground all served to make her uneasy and slightly nervous. She looked into the fog, wondering if the hornet was out there, perhaps sleeping, perhaps not.

She had never seen a hornet before, but she could remember hearing stories from Cornelius. She could imagine it towering over her, a bulky head that connected to a compact thorax, and then a tapering abdomen which ended in a curling stinger that dripped with a paralyzing venom. Being strict militarists and carnivores, they had made a living out of war.

She wished Flik was there.

Thorny shook his head. They were the only ones out there, having woken up earlier than the rest of the colony to examine the outside of the ant hill. "Not yet, your highness. Dr. Flora doesn't like us rousing him from his bed like this. His old age…"

"I know," Atta said quietly. "But we have to know what it says."

She looked warily to the sky, not at all comfortable with being enveloped in fog. Raindrops were known to fall sporadically, and, while these were not nearly as big as the drops in a rainstorm, they were still dangerous.

At last Cornelius arrived with Dr. Flora at his side, looking miserable, his limp especially pronounced. Dr. Flora was shaking her head, making known her opposition towards Cornelius leaving his bed. Atta decided that, unless he improved greatly, she would never summon him except in the most dire of emergencies.

"Yes, your highness?" Cornelius asked. He sounded weak and tired.

Atta suddenly wished she hadn't asked Cornelius to be present. He looked older than ever, and it unsettled her to see the councilour – who had always given the appearance of stubborn vigor – wither away before her eyes.

"We have another message," replied Atta. "Longer, from the looks of it."

The little blood left in Cornelius' face drained away. "That's never a good omen. When hornets decide to retreat, they do so silently. Where is it?"

Thorny and Atta led Cornelius to the area where, the night before, they had written the warning. The message they had left was gone, and replacing it was a scrawl of various crooked lines. They were broad and crude, as though the strokes were made in a fit of rage. The soil was moistened with dew, and as Cornelius extended his cane to trace the markings, some of the edges chipped and collapsed.

"Why does he outline the markings with his cane?" Thorny whispered to Dr. Flora.

"He can't see," she answered. "Cornelius is nearly blind, and using his cane helps him tell what it says."

Atta, however, had both eyes transfixed on Cornelius, trying to read from his expression the contents of the message the hornet had left them. From what she saw, she knew that it could not be good. His cane trembled in his hand.

"It says-" Cornelius began, as though unsure how to present the informaiton. "It says: No, he will not leave. Give Flik or he will begin to kill."

A heavy silence followed, and Atta shut her eyes. Her worst fears were confirmed. They were indeed dealing with a savage insect, who, for unknown reasons, wanted Flik, and was willing to kill to get him.

"It's an empty threat," said Thorny. "He could not possibly get past the entrance. We have the boulder blocking it during the night."

"But if he decides to come during the day…"

"Then we'll stop him," Thorny said. "We'll get spears. He's only one hornet-"

"Hornets never work alone!" Cornelius exclaimed with a surprising show of strength. He shook his cane violently in the air to emphasize his point. "They never do! There's never one outside the shadow of three others. We're dealing with another colony, not a renegade group of grasshoppers. If we don't tread carefully the entire colony could be in jeapordy!"

"But we don't know if there is more than one," Thorny argued. "There's no evidence to suggest that there are multiple hornets. Besides, this one has only come at night. Sounds fishy to me. I think we're dealing with a rogue who's trying to intimidate us."

"Do you really want to risk that, Thorny?" Atta asked. "And even if your theory was correct, what would a rogue want with Flik?"

Thorny fell silent, having been thoroughly chastened.

For a moment no one spoke, and then Atta asked, "Cornelius, what do you remember about the hornets?"

"They used to be two trees down from Ant Island," Cornelius wheezed. "They often sent us messengers, asking if we ever saw anything unusual on the island. Scouts, spies, and the like. We never did."

"They never bothered us, and now, looking back, I can see why. We unwittingly acted as a sort of barrier to any invading insects. Hornets…they're brutal. I was the one who had to deal with their messengers, and I've never – before or since – met stranger insects. Only a very few were permitted to speak, and, apparently, even fewer had names. They were all numbered…the 733rd, the 1,569th. From what I gathered, the number was based on the number of births. For example, the very first hornet born during the season was called the First, the 545th hornet born during the season was called the 545th, and so on. This is a good idea, I suppose, if you're dealing with a very large military. Names and communication rights were doled out as rewards."

"Strict, aren't they?" Thorny asked, sounding slightly incredulous.

Cornelius merely turned towards him and stared.

Atta sighed and gazed into the fog. It was dissipating slightly, but not much. She might have to delay the day's foraging for an hour until it cleared, she thought vaguely.

Turning, she looked at the boulder, hoping that it would not fail them. More than that, she desperately wanted Thorny to be right. If hornets were as vicious as Cornelius said they were…

Her mother had once told her that Queens had to be outwardly optomistic and inwardly pessimistic. The colony should not worry itself needlessly, but the Queen should always make precautions. The Queen could never expect things to turn out for the best.

"Why?" Atta had once asked.

"Because," said the Queen. "If there's one thing that pessimists love being, it's being wrong."


	3. New Arrivals

**(A/N: Not dead!)**

Flik set the leaf-scrolls on the mushroom table in his quarters before pulling up a chair that was woven with green, flexible twigs. He spread them out, looking over each message, carefully considering them and their feasibility.

These were the 'requests' that he received periodically from Bug City, asking Flik for a solution (preferably in mechanical form) to their problem. He was all too happy to help, provided that the inventions he was asked to make were not for any sort of war.

Flik never failed to be surprised that other bugs – bugs he once considered to be superior in some respects – would go to _him_ for help. It had all begun so abruptly.

Since the grasshoppers were thrown out from Ant Island last fall, the colony was producing record harvests, and the excess grain usually went to the city for trade. It so happened that some of the city bugs began asking how Ant Island was producing so much grain so quickly, especially since most of the other colonies were barely beginning to pick the grain's first yield.

The foragers told the bugs of Flik's harvesting machine, and received skeptical looks in return, as if the ants were lying. So, the next time the ants came to sell grain at Bug City, they brought along one of the machines to prove it.

One the city insects offered to buy the machine on the spot, and several others raised bids. The ants, slightly overwhelmed by the response, politely refused. The city bugs, however, were not so easily satisfied. They asked who designed the contraption, and the ants answered, wanting to satiate the bugs' curiosity so that they could continue to sell grain. The resulting fallout was something none of them could have foreseen.

Soon after, Flik began receiving orders for a "Harvesting Machine," the buyers offering lucrative sums of grain for only a single prototype. Flik, who hardly believed that the colony was actually accepting his ideas, was startled to see that outsiders were interested in his inventions as well. While the colony scarcely needed any more grain, he sold a few, and the city bugs were so impressed that they asked him if he had any other ideas for inventions.

And, of course, ideas were something that he had plenty of.

He sold a mechanical lift to a group of construction bugs. He also designed and sold a conveyor belt to a well-known distributor of flower petals and other household commodities. When Flik received an order from a struggling ant colony desperate for a way to become more efficient, he waived the grain fee and sent them a small fleet of Harvesting Machines. Frankly, the satisfaction he got from creating each invention was payment enough. He cared little for the grain.

Flik's inventions had met with mixed reactions. The vast majority was deemed to be "miraculous," and "ingenious." A very few had some flaw that he had missed, resulting in the inventions failing when put into action. These instances were rare, and he always went back to repair the inventions and compensate for any damages done.

Then there were the more…unusual requests. Pleas from insects – mostly stricken with poverty – to create some impossible invention, or fix some illness as though he was a healer. Flik could only assume that they had no other place to turn, and were clinging to some baseless (and, in many ways, cruel) rumor that he could somehow fix the insect body as thought it was just another machine.

Today, Flik was fortunate. There were no such 'requests' in the mail load. Just the usual orders for existing inventions and some for inventions not yet created.

While he was not at all disappointed with the turnout, there was one piece that was lacking. Flik still had not received any word from the Circus Bugs. While they had promised to come back next season, they had not, and Flik was becoming concerned. The last he heard from them was in late spring when they had apparently gone along with a business venture arranged by P.T. What happened to them?

Flik sighed and set the leaf-sheets aside. He would have to work on them later. Right now there were several more ideas that he wanted to implement into the drill, and there was no room for any side projects. In a few days he could begin to brainstorm, but until then he would have to concentrate on his newest invention.

Flik couldn't wait to finish it. The drill would be the answer to many of the water problems the colony encountered during the dry summer months. He was sure that they would find water if they dug deep enough. And when this happened, Flik could almost envision the last lingering remnants of doubt the colony held against him vanishing; he could see Atta glowing with pride; he could see himself – with added support – planning even more projects to help the colony.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Atta strode down the residential tunnels, making a right at the curling blue mushroom, hardly aware of her surroundings. She could still remember the words they had discovered that morning, written crudely before the heavy boulder blocking the anthill's entrance.

"No he will not leave, " Cornelius had read from the ground. "Give Flik or he will begin to kill."

__

Who and what are we dealing with? she wondered. It was the question that had plagued her since the beginning. She accepted Cornelius' belief that hornets were involved as the best theory they had. But still, the largest and most confusing piece of the puzzle remained.

What did they – presuming there was more than one – want with Flik?

Flik's newfound fame had attracted all sorts of unusual and eccentric insects, many of which were more or less harmless. Certainly they had never encountered anyone who threatened violence.

While the invader's ultimate intentions for Flik were unclear, its behavior so far left Atta no choice but to believe that it meant harm. Why else would it only come at night, leaving behind vague messages underlined with threatened violence? Classic intimidation tactics.

She remembered the conversation she had had with her mother a moment ago that had led her to this conclusion.

"This isn't an easy situation you're in, Atta," the retired Queen had said from her bedside, giving Aphie a bit of raspberry. "But you must remember: your first, last, and only priority is the colony. How easy do you think it would be for this problem to escalate into something far worse?" Slowly, she set the aphid aside, turning back to face her daughter with an unusually grave expression. "How are you regarding this thing – this hornet?"

"I don't know," said Atta. "I don't know why it wants Flik, I don't even know if it really _is_ a hornet."

The old Queen frowned. "Then you must see it as an enemy." She lifted Aphie back onto her lap, stroking him. "It may be hard for you to understand at first, Atta, but anything that does not help the colony must be an enemy."

"That would make much of the world our enemy!"

"Yes it would," said the Queen. "But you can have truces with enemies, you can ignore enemies, you can even have alliances with enemies. When the sun sets, however, they're _always_ your enemies. It's a hard rule to understand and follow, but it keeps the colony alive and breathing."

Atta shook her head. "What does all that mean?"

"If you have a chance, destroy him."

Afterwards, it was difficult for her to understand why she hadn't come to the conclusion sooner. The invader had already threatened ant lives, presenting a clear danger to the colony. But something was nagging at the back of her mind, telling her that it could not possibly be so simple.

When Atta entered Flik's chamber, she pushed those lingering doubts from her mind. She had to be resolved for everyone in the colony. _Everyone_.

"Hi Flik, may I come in?"

Flik whirled in his seat, the motion causing the leaf sheets on his desk to sweep aside. "Oh, hi Atta! Sure!" He stood and guided her to a nearby mushroom chair.

"Thanks."

Flik took a seat nearby. "Sleep well?"

"No, actually," said Atta, remembering being woken at dawn to see the newly written message on the ground. The sun had just barely crept over the horizon when she had climbed onto the ant hill. "That's sort of why I came here, Flik," She began tapping the tips of her fingers together. "There's been another message."

"Oh," Flik's eyes went wide. "_Oh_! What- what did it say?"

"That we had to give you to him or he'll begin to kill," she said grimly. "But it's an empty threat. He couldn't possibly come after us in here."

"We're not sure there's only one, though."

"We're not sure of anything at this point," Atta said. "There'll be another council meeting this afternoon. Could you be there again?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. Since this heavily involves you-" The question ran through her mind: _Why Flik? _"-it's only right that you be present. Besides, we need as many fresh ideas as we can get."

"It's no problem," said Flik, then, hesitantly, he asked, "Are we still having dinner?"

"Of course," she said.

Atta let her eyes wander around the room, looking at the various gadgets Flik had left strewn throughout his chamber. Some, she was sure, were failed inventions, but that didn't detract her interest. Atta doubted that Flik _ever_ threw out any of his unsuccessful inventions. There was one or two in the room that she was sure were abandoned months ago, and haven't been touched since.

__

It's amazing what he comes up with, she thought. _And even more amazing that he's able to turn his ideas into a reality._

"Oh, that was supposed to grind grain," Flik said, following her gaze. He got to his feet and gingerly lifted the spindly object from where it was sprawled on a work desk. "The only problem was that, when it was used, grain would be thrown everywhere. It would make a total mess."

"You never tried fixing it?"

Flik paused. "I tried," he said at length, setting it back down. "But it simply wouldn't work right. Most of these are side projects. The drill, on the other hand, is what I've been focusing on."

Atta tried to keep her face as attentive as possible, but inwardly she was preparing herself for hearing what she had heard at least four times before. _That miserable drill_!

"I think I'll start testing it this evening, or tomorrow at the latest," continued Flik. "I will try to dig a few inches with it and see how it goes. Hopefully I won't run into any large rocks. Just think of it Atta! Access to water during even the hottest summer months!"

Atta gave him a skeptical look. "It _is_ safe though, right?" She wiped her eyes and saw that there was a thin shower of dust falling from the ceiling. If it hadn't had irritated her eyes, she wouldn't have even noticed it.

Flik's expression turned thoughtful, as though he had never considered that question before. "It should be," he said finally. Then, looking around, he too saw the falling dust. "That's strange. I wonder-" He set the back of his hand against the wall and his eyes widened. "The wall is vibrating!"

Before Atta could speak, they both began to hear a low, slowly rising sound of buzzing wings. The sound brought back horrible memories of the grasshoppers coming to take the Offering while she and her mother hid within the ant hill.

The sound must've triggered a similar memory with Flik, as he turned to Atta and said, "You don't think-"

"No," Atta said immediately. "Hopper's gone. He's dead. The grasshoppers don't come here anymore…"

"Let's check the surface," Flik said. His eyes were wide with disbelief. "If there were- if grasshoppers were arriving- you know?" Without waiting for her to answer he dashed out the door, running up through the tunnels.

Atta followed close behind, barely aware of the confused ants that were standing outside of their chamber doors, throwing questions at her.

"What's going on?"

"What's that sound?"

__

I don't know! I don't know! Atta wanted to shout.

They sped through the winding corridors and ran up the corkscrew root that led to the entrance. More ants joined them as they went, some carrying spears. Atta had only a moment to reflect on how much the colony's attitude had changed over the past year before they climbed onto the surface and into the blinding light of the sun.

The buzzing became even louder, like the landing of a hundred grasshoppers.

Atta squinted as her eyes adjusting, trying desperately to see what was causing such noise. She half expected to see the dark shapes of winged insects coming from the horizon, but before she could get a good look, she was pulled away.

"Princess!" Thorny said, sounding close to panic. "They've only just arrived. The Council isn't supposed to deal with foreign matters. You're the only one with the authority."

"Authority?" Atta repeated. " Foreign matters? What's going on? What's all this about?"

"They don't seem hostile," continued Thorny quickly. "There are still ants out in the fields, and, as far as I know, no one's been harmed. I'm going to try to pull everyone back inside in a moment."

"Thorny what are you-"

She was cut off when Flik grabbed her arm and pointed towards the fringes of the bare patch of ground surrounding the ant hill.

"Hornets."

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The 7,353rd landed on the ground with a practiced grace, his legs lightly touching the ground before his claws dug in to slow him to a halt. He heard rather than saw his troops mimic him, each line of them falling into the formation they had known since gestation.

It wasn't really necessary, he decided. Looking at the shocked and surprised expressions of the insects – ants, specifically – around him, he felt strangely relaxed. There was nothing here that could be considered a threat to the Hive. Nothing from the ants, anyway. He stretched his limbs and stepped into the sunlight.

His antennae tasted the air, finding it an earthy mixture of dirt, wood, and decaying leaves, with a sweet dash of flower thrown in. It made him nauseous, and discretely, he moved out of the way of the air current and under the shelter of a nearby clover, finding the coolness of its shade comforting after his long flight.

From his position, he watched the ants begin to group together and whisper, the topic obvious. The 7,353rd had no plans on approaching them – the earth dwellers. Custom dictated that _they_ come to _him_. But now, after several uneventful moments, he was unsure if these ants were even aware of the custom.

It would not surprise him. The Hive's influence over its vast territories had been slowly waning. With the bitter war with the bees still raging on, the Hive had little time and fewer troops to devote to more domestic duties. And – what's more – the Hive was losing.

The 7,353rd silently cursed the weak, incompetent Center of the Hive, and turned his thoughts to his more immediate concerns. To his mission – probably the most important one of his life.

It wasn't an accident that such a mission was assigned to him. In fact, it had been the type of mission that he had been wanting for many seasons now. The type of mission that would throw him over the barricades and into the Hive's Center.

Had the current Center hornets not been obstructing him, the 7,353rd had no doubt that he would have already joined that war group. But the Center hornets were old and stubborn, and nothing – not even the bees' slow intrusion into the Hive's territory – could make them accept change.

It was the Queen that saw him and approached him, eventually contriving a plan that would circumvent the Center's blockades and guarantee him a position in high leadership. She knew that the Hive would not last another decade without a new change. Even though the simple, nearsighted fools in the Center didn't, she did.

This would be the last mission, he knew. After this, he would be given the Right of Strategy, the Right of High Command, and the Right of Title. The Center would no longer have any choice. There would be no more excuses or delays.

It was a small comfort to him to know that not even the Center could stop what was inevitable. It was inevitable that _he_ would be the one to stop the bees in their tracks. It was inevitable that _he_ would be the one to revamp the aging hornet armies. It was inevitable that _he_ would earn a name and a section in the annals of the Hive's history.

Presently, the 7,353rd glanced over his troops, finding them all straight and silent. None of them had permission to speak. None had yet earned their Right to. Every last one of them knew their place in the world and none of them dared to be discontented.

The 7,353rd turned, and, seeing that the majority of the ants were still standing in their groups, huddling, began disliking the earth dwellers even more, all the more because he detected no fear or respect in their exchanges. The entire affair was becoming a waste of time. If he didn't think he would gain something from this exchange he would've signaled his troops and flown off.

At last, a small figure emerged from the ant hill, flanked by two others. Pricking his antennae he detected the unmistakable scent of royalty. Irritation at the whole formal procedure beginning to creep up on him, he stepped out from the clover's shade to make himself known.

The 7,353rd hated to deal with crawling insects. They weren't organized or clean, and even their cities were little more than rusted iron and cardboard thrown together in a heap. They were nothing like him and the others with wings, with homes of paper, created with a plan in mind. He viewed himself and the earth dwellers as living in two different worlds. One being civilized, and the other being barbaric. More than anything he wanted to keep his conversation with the ant Queen brief.

As she climbed down and hill and approached, the 7,353rd focused his eyes to receive a clearer picture of his opponent. She was young – probably new – and, judging from the slight faltering in her step, more than a little nervous. He planned on exploiting that weakness by adopting a strict and rigid pose, which he felt sure would be enough to intimidate her.

He looked over her again, this time for less than professional reasons. _Not bad_, he decided. _For an earth dweller._

As she approached, the surrounding groups of ants stopped their whispering and tentatively followed behind her. The 7,353rd could not help but see the trailing earth dwellers as forming a sort of army, their Queen leading from the front. It was almost comical, in a strange way. Especially when their Queen was anything but confident.

"The Queen extends her greetings," the 7,353rd said in the earth dwellers' tongue when she finally stood before him. The tip of her antennae barely reached his thorax, and he had to stare down at her in an awkward fashion in order to make eye contact. "I, the 7,353rd born two seasons ago, will act as Her representative to this colony."

"I'm the Queen of Ant Island, Atta," she said, looking rather uncertain of herself.

A million questions were racing through her head. _What are you doing here? What do you want? Are you the hornet who has been leaving the messages?_

"Why are you- Why have come here, representative-" She stopped, realizing that she didn't have his name. "What should I call you?"

The 7,353rd blinked, not quite understanding. _Was she trying to be insulting?_ He searched her face for sarcasm, but found none. What made her believe that he had earned a name? "I'm the 7,353rd born," he repeated.

Then he remembered. Earth dwellers did not need to earn their names. Rather, they had theirs since birth. Something like irritation stirred within him.

"Oh, right," Atta said, unsure of how to proceed. Her mother had never given her advice on how to deal with foreigners. What was she supposed to do? Having Flik by her side was a small comfort, but still, the size of the huge insect before her was intimidating.

"Take me to your council, Queen Atta," he said, stepping forward. "I have little time left for formalities."


End file.
